Yume
by Malicious Words and Happiness
Summary: Weak, trying to keep himself together…a parent doesn’t want to see their child in that position. I could only keep him away, whether it was better for him or not. Yuki’s mother’s point of view.


Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.

Summary/Description: Weak, trying to keep himself together…a parent doesn't want to see their child in that position. I could only keep him away, whether it was better for him or not. (Yuki's mother's point of view.)

A/N: Here's a first—a fan fiction about Yuki's mother. She's a very, how should I say this, complex character to write about. Most people describe her as cold and vicious, not a trace of parental attitude within her. I see it a bit differently. I personally don't like her, but I don't despise her either. She just sparks my interest.

* * *

The day he was born, there was something I envisioned.

I pictured happiness, life, and smiles, a happy home where no one ever falls into depression. I pictured a perfect son, to make up for the one who hadn't gone according to plan. I expected that this child would grant me that request. I expected him to be perfect, and I stubbornly vowed to accept nothing else. I wasn't going to let myself get my hopes up to be disappointed. It would be ridiculous.

At first, that's how things were.

The main house celebrated his birth of the rat, which drew my fantasy even closer. If my plan worked, which I expected it to, not only would we be a happy family, we would have happiness, success, and _money_.

At first, I was proud of Yuki.

He was sick and weakly, and that somewhat aggravated me, but I was tolerant. As long as he held his position as the rat, as long as he turned out to be the son I wanted, it wouldn't matter how weak he was. The Sohma would have reason to cherish him as I would—as long as it turned out the way it should.

Even if it meant giving him to the head of the family as flattery, I was willing to make it work.

The more time he spent with the head of the family, the happier and more relieved I became, expecting his happiness to rise as he found a friend in Akito. In this situation, there wasn't a way that my plan _wouldn't_ work out.

That is, until I noticed that he had an incapability to think for himself.

I panicked.

What was I going to do? My son, my perfect son, had a flaw that I was nowhere near prepared for. I was embarrassed by it. Though it may have been unnecessary, I covered it as well as I could. I made all decisions for him, knowing that he would never be able to decide for himself. It was a frenzied variant of the life I'd expected, but it still was able to work out in the end.

I only had to keep convincing myself that it was for the best.

Over time, his flaws began to grow. I found my vision of him as the perfect son slipping away as a _person_ began to grow, instead of just my tool to success.

That thought unnerved me. I was thinking of my son as a tool? What kind of happy family would that be, if I was only using him? Yet still the mantra continued (it's for the best, after all) and I pushed that thought away. I would deal with it when the time came, and when I had bent him to fit my likings.

It all came crashing down when I noticed the torture in his eyes.

If I had panicked before, at this time I was horrified. My most prominent regard in my fairy tale life I had planned had gone unfulfilled. I had let my son get depressed. I found myself disgusted with my entire being that I had ever let this happen. Weak, trying to keep himself together…no parent, whether as twisted as I am or not, wants to see their child in that position, especially if they had planned their happiness. I could only keep him away and abandon him—that thought made me cringe—as though it would help him.

Over time it grew worse.

I avoided him at all costs, frantically trying to put an end to it. I was merciless around him, though I could not control myself. I had to end it; I had to prove myself that my plan was not hopeless, even though it was beginning to seem like it was.

He left me sooner than I'd expected.

Even though I was somewhat relieved to see him taken away to live in a house away from the main estate, I still couldn't help but feel rather lonely as he left. My once-perfect son was leaving me because I had let it get out of hand. I still bore a terrible longing to protect him, though still, crazily, I held on to the notion that if I stayed away, his happiness would return.

_My, how he'd grown._

I was nervous, having to face my son after this many years of being apart from him. I noticed right away, with a hint of surprise that I quickly hid, that he was no longer the darkened boy my son had been. He seemed happier, and there was definitely life within him again. For a moment, I wondered if I could try again at achieving my dream. Yet I had to remind myself that it was all over.

I was surprised when he told me not to decide his future for him.

My years of covering his weakness had worked out, I mused. He'd developed an opinion. Yet still, even though the dream had come to an end, I wasn't going to let myself believe that he was better so that I could get my hopes shot down.

Now, as I sit beneath the lamplight in my home at the main estate, I can't help remember the happier days.

The days in which I still had dreams.


End file.
